Atlantic
by ohwhatagloomyshow
Summary: He turned from her and headed to his room, but just as he reached the door, she called, "You want to hang out later—just the two of us? On the boardwalk?" Immediately he turned back, and his smile was so bright, so earnest. "I'd like that."
1. Chapter 1

"How would you feel about a vacation?"

The question was sudden and unexpected; Nancy glanced curiously up over her novel to catch her father's eye. He sat reclining in his leather chair, his glasses sliding down his nose as he looked above his copy of the local newspaper.

"Where is this coming from?"

She could barely see his shrug for the paper. "Fenton broached it to me a few days ago. Thought it sounded like a good idea. They have an apartment in Ocean City, Maryland, they're going to visit, and thought we might like to tag along. I think it's a good idea."

She grinned. "Really?" At his nod, she spoke again: "When were you thinking of answering?"

"Might give him a call tomorrow. We'd go in about a week, meet up there, spend a week, maybe two; we hadn't decided yet."

"Can we say yes—for two weeks?"

He smiled at the excitement in her tone. "I think I can get two weeks off. As long as you promise not to solve a mystery this time!"

The book flew from her hands as she leapt up to embrace her father, crying, "Scout's honor!" as her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed him hard on the cheek, and he laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

It almost surprised her to see Frank standing with his parents and his brother, waiting for her at the airport—her thoughts had been so focused on just the idea of a relaxing beach vacation with her father that she had nearly forgotten that they would be with the Hardys. But as she approached his side and he offered to hold her carry-on (she declined), she felt at home.

Lunch was had at a local crab shack, and she was squeezed in-between the brothers, who kept her talking until her food grew cold. After a quick stop back at the cabin, they changed into beach clothes and walked along the shore, parents soaking up the sun while children played in the surf.

It was the first time she had ever seen the Hardy brothers in bathing suits, she realized as she took a break, joining her father on a beach towel. Joe's brawn was something she'd expected: his wide shoulders, defined arms and abdomen, looking very much a blonde god with his hair shining with saltwater.

Frank's body was something of a surprise—he was wiry, but the toned forearms and loosely defined stomach muscles were a pleasant shock. And she was surprised at how much joy she took from watching the water trickle down from his soaked black hair to his shoulders, around his forearms and down his ribs.

"Drew!" Joe's sudden call startled her; she blushed when she realized how long she must have been staring at his brother. "Come on, break's over!" He splashed a bit of water over to her, but it fell short of her outstretched legs. His grin was dazzling, but she found Frank's quiet smile much more enticing.

She pushed herself up from the towel. "Coming!"


	3. Chapter 3

The adults retired at a sensible early hour, but the trio found they had too much energy to sleep.

Frank threw himself back on the old couch with a groan, and snatched the remote from the coffee table. "Anything you two want to watch?" he called to the adjoined kitchen where Nancy made popcorn with Joe sitting in front of her on a counter.

"No!" they called back simultaneously over the _pop!_ing.

"I really don't think that's a sunburn," Nancy reassured after the interruption, holding a hand over Joe's red arm. "It doesn't feel hot—and we loaded you up with sunscreen!"

"It just looks too red to be healthy," he murmured, and she was startled by the self-consciousness in his voice. She took back her hand to cross her arms.

"What time is it?" he asked suddenly, breaking his attention away from his forearm.

She glanced at the oven's clock, and headed over to the microwave as the timer began to wind down. "Quarter to ten. Why?"

He muttered a curse and leapt from the counter. "Should've called Ande after dinner," he said to himself before ruffling her hair and flying from the room. "Night, Nan! Bro!" he called, and then there was the sound of a slamming door.

"Ande..?" Nancy repeated half to herself as she grabbed the popcorn and poured it into a bowl before heading to Frank in the living room.

"Joe's new girl," Frank supplied, sitting up to make room for her—she appreciated the image of his body all sprawled out and was sad to see it go.

He snagged a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth. "Not dating yet, but he'd like to. She's cute," he finished after he'd swallowed.

Nancy raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever heard you call anyone cute before."

He shrugged. "Just adding some perspective for you."

"_Sure._"

Lightly, he shoved her shoulder. "She's more Joe's type."

"Oh?" she asked, intrigued, helping herself to the snack. "And what about you—do _you_ have a type, Frank Hardy?"

"Hm?" He glanced at her as though he hadn't heard, but immediately blushed and looked away from her curious expression. "No, not—particularly." He cleared his throat, and visibly struggled to come up with another topic. "Do _you_ have a type?" he repeated back, desperate for the intensity of her gaze to lessen.

She laughed. "De_flect_ion! Not fair!" She readjusted herself on the couch to buy herself time. "Tall. _Intelligent_. Strong," she added with a sideways grin. "Humble. Kind."

"That's one _heck_ of a list, Nan."

She straightened up with mock superiority, and flipped her hair over her shoulders in a dramatic gesture. "I only deserve the best."

"That you do."

The sincerity of his tone startled them both into silence, and they turned to the television as though they had just remembered it was there. Nancy was the first one to react.

"Eugh! Change it!" Frank had unknowingly landed on a music video station, which he quickly left at her request. The channel above was a black-and-white film.

"Stay?"

"For a moment."

It was a picture neither of them had heard of, and they watched it for a handful of minutes before realizing that, so late into the plot, they would never understand it. He pressed the advance button just as she opened her mouth to request it. The channel above that was a more recent movie that they vaguely recognized and stayed on, and for a while there was only the sound of their jaws grinding against the popcorn and dramatic background music.

"Do you think it's strange that we haven't stumbled upon a mystery yet?"

Nancy couldn't help but chuckle. "A little. But I'm not used to such a nice vacation—maybe we shouldn't say anything like that because it's only the first night." Immediately she leaned forward and rapped her knuckles solidly against the wooden coffee table. She could see Frank smile at the superstition. "But really, what do you have against _actual_ vacations?" she asked as she stretched back against couch, feeling a little embarrassed as she arched her back into what was most likely a provocative pose. Frank's eyes didn't leave her until she settled back into her seat.

"I'm not against them—they just make me feel very lazy."

"I like lazy. It's good to me." She stretched her legs and placed her ankles on the table.

They continued to tolerate the film, occasionally mocking it when one thought of something particularly witty, which was less and less as the hour grew later. By the time the credits were rolling they found themselves leaning against each other and yawning deeply, Nancy's head against Frank's shoulder, his arm around her waist. They weren't quite sure how they'd gotten to that point—she remembered growing tired and he remembered putting his arm around her after she'd complained of the cold, but anything after that was lost.

Absently, Frank pressed the up button once more, and the sudden bright colors were a shock to their eyes after the muted colors of the film. Dulled by exhaustion, they watched.

"What _is_ this?" he murmured.

"No idea," she replied, but soon the theme song rang out and the title appeared: _Gravity Falls._

"Stay or sleep?"

She began to speak but it turned into a yawn. "Stay," she replied around it, and he laughed softly at the noise.

"Okay."

They watched, and they laughed, and they slowly sank farther down the couch until she lay on top of him, her head resting snugly on his chest. His hand was warm on the small of her back, and she fell asleep smiling at his comfortable touch and at the words _"You sneeze like a kitten!"_


	4. Chapter 4

Joe found them in the early hours of the morning when he woke up to go on an early run. Frank's snores had alerted him of their presence; his guffaw was loud enough to bring them both to consciousness. Nancy stirred slightly, stretching out her arms before opening her eyes. When she blinked awake, she made a startled sound and lifted herself from the boy she had slept on. Joe's responding chortle startled her even more.

"What—time is it?" she asked, even as her speech was interrupted by a yawn.

"Four-thirty. Geez, did you two _sleep_ like that?"

She leaned backward to crack her spine. "Apparently."

Frank moaned and kicked a little as he began to wake; the heels of his hands rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Man, wait till Callie hears about this!"

Immediately Frank removed his hands from his face; his eyes were wide open and he sat up like a shot. "What?"

Joe was nearly doubled over with laughter. "Happy morning after! Boy am I glad I was here to see this." He shook his head, grinning widely, before he waved goodbye to Nancy. "See you both in a bit," he murmured through the rest of his giggles.

"What happened?" Frank asked her, loosening into a slouch, still very tired.

"We just—ah." Her face was on fire. "I fell asleep on top of you, that's—that's it."

"I don't even remember _falling_ asleep!" he moaned as he stretched. "God, but really—you slept on _top_ of me?" He glanced up at her with a sheepish grin. "That couldn't have been very comfortable."

"It was, actually. I slept really…well." Suddenly conscious of her bedhead, she frantically ran a hand through her hair. "I must look a mess!"

"You look fine."

She snorted. "You're a good liar."

"I'm not lying!" He was surprisingly vehement on the subject; it brought the blush back to her cheeks, especially as she noticed how beautifully disheveled his own hair was.

"Thanks."

He smiled and stood, and stretched. "I might try to get a few more hours of sleep in before the folks get up," he said through another yawn. "I'm still tired."

"Yeah—me too." She didn't want him to leave, not when the memory of his body against hers was so close in her mind.

He turned from her and headed to his room, but just as he reached the door, she called, "You want to hang out later—just the two of us? On the boardwalk?" Immediately he turned back, and his smile was so bright, so earnest.

"I'd like that. G'night."

"Night."

And he vanished into his room.


	5. Chapter 5

_God, you're so _stupid_,_ she repeated to herself for the rest of the day, silently brooding through every meal as she tried to keep the smile on her face. She couldn't just…flirt with Frank like this, with Ned waiting so patiently back home! _Was_ this flirting, this dangerous fine line she walked, filled with thinly veiled innuendoes and inappropriate times alone? Had they moved beyond simple flirting? She hoped not.

Oh but she hoped that they _had_! She knew within herself—just one word from Frank and she would end things with Ned. And how _horrible _that was! Ned was such as wonderful man, a sweet, kind man who put up with her ridiculous detective nonsense with not only a grin, but with his full support! She knew how he loved her, how he wanted to make her happy, and how frustrated he was that he couldn't always appreciate the things she loved.

But Frank could. And Frank made her happy—not the kind of happy Ned made her, the happiness that stayed for twenty minutes after he left to fade into obscurity, but the kind of happiness that found root in her very bones, leaving her pleased and satisfied for the rest of the evening, happiness that gave her pleasant dreams throughout the night and brought her back to consciousness with a smile. How could she ignore that kind of relationship?

But Frank was dating. Of _course_ Frank would be in a committed relationship, he was that kind of person. She could only pray that Callie did not give Frank the kind of happiness that Frank gave _her_. But she couldn't be sure.

So what was she doing with all of these innuendoes when she couldn't guarantee that he cared for her in the same way? This was all horrific teenage drama, the kind she typically tried to avoid. Bess would have an answer, but Bess wasn't answering her phone.

So, distraught, plagued by frustrating internal debates, and advice-less, she met Frank in the living room just as the sun was setting, ready for an early evening stroll. She hadn't tried to dress up, but his appreciative glance made her realize she had probably done it without realizing—her blue shirt was shimmery and thin with almost-dressy dark shorts and black flats. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, and light makeup highlighted her eyes and lips. Oops.

He was handsome as always, just in a simple green v neck and khaki shorts. She smiled to herself when she noticed he had styled his hair into a casual disarray—so he had tried to impress her, too. Well, that was flattering. And it evened the playing field a bit.

"Ready?"

"Yep!"

It was just a block to the crowded boardwalk, and the heavy smells of greasy food and sweat hit them just a bit before the noise of the people. They snuck into the mass of people just after the little amusement park at the tail end of the walk.

"Want to hit the arcade again?"

"Is that even a question?" she responded, grinning widely. "Bet I can beat you at skeeball!"

"Oh, you're _on_!"

She beat him.

In an effort to regain his pride, he challenged her to a game of air hockey. She beat him again, four times out of five.

With the tickets they'd won, she bought him a blue Chinese finger trap. He bought her a tiny stuffed bear. They carried the gifts like holy relics.

Only when the two of them had spent the rest of their spare change, they threw themselves back into the crowd of people, letting themselves be swayed in the ebb and flow of humanity. Near the Ripley's exhibit their hands brushed and nearly seized; closer to the salt-water taffy she tripped and he held her for a moment as she regained her balance. At the second pizza place she stopped him. "I'm hungry." They snagged two slices of pizza to eat and sat with their backs to the ocean, people watching.

"I'm glad your dad invited us," Nancy said, adjusting her toy bear on her lap before picking up her slice. Frank swallowed hastily and replied, "Me too."

She leaned against his arm. He did not push her away.

When they finished, they bought a big tub of caramel popcorn to bring back and share with the rest of the group. Not quite ready to leave, she suggested a walk on the beach. He agreed, and they headed off to the deserted surf.

The water was warm on their bare feet, but they hardly dared to go farther in than their ankles. The sound of the swell blocked out all noise of the crowd behind them

She loved the outline of him, against the darkness of the ocean and the night sky, outlined in the silver light of the moon.

"Frank, I—" she found herself saying, just loud enough to be heard over the waves.

"Hm?" He turned away from the horizon to look at her expectantly, eagerly.

"I enjoyed this—tonight." She smiled sheepishly, clutched at the bear and holding it tight against her stomach as she repeatedly traced its face with twitching fingers.

"Me, too."

"Frank, I—" she began again after a few moments or minutes or eternities of silence. He turned back to her and waited for her to speak again.

"I think I'm in love with you."

But she couldn't say it, so she just turned back to him and smiled and said, "Never mind."


	6. Chapter 6

They didn't say a thing as they walked back to the apartment, keeping a healthy distance apart while secretly clutching to their gifts. Their shadows played against store windows and their feet made little noise on the busy streets.

"I'm thinking about breaking up with Callie." His sudden interruption of their silence startled her, but the content of his speech was all the more shocking. And horrifically exciting.

"Why?" she blurted, looking at him curiously—hopefully.

He shrugged, and looked nearly helpless as he struggled for words. "We haven't—we—we just haven't been getting along so well recently," he finally said. "We haven't fought or anything—it's kind of the opposite. She's putting a lot of energy into getting ready for college, and that's separated us a bit." He shrugged. "We need a break, anyway, with college coming soon. Better we end things sooner than later, I say."

She nearly said that they didn't _need_ to end things—look at her and Ned, keeping up a relationship while he was at college—before she realized that those words would send the wrong message, so she kept her mouth shut.

"What about you? You getting ready—I mean, for college?"

"A little bit at a time. You?"

"Same."

They walked the rest of the way home in an uncomfortable silence, and when they entered the apartment they found Joe sprawled out on the couch, his head resting against the back—mouth open, snoring loudly and steadily in front of a running television. Nancy and Frank laughed together as they passed him as quietly as they could.

Frank stopped in front of his door; with a startled movement, she realized where she was, and began to back away to her own room. "Good night!" she whispered.

"Nancy—wait." He leaned out for her, his hand groping at the air just before her forearm. He led her into his room and they were engulfed in darkness as the light from the street was dim. She could only see the outline of him when he shut the door. The gentle lull of the ocean was soft in the background.

"I just wanted to say that if—um, that if I do break up with Callie—" her heart was in her throat, and she felt her pulse in her wrists, a sharp staccato measuring time and anxiety, "that—I never really answered your question. You—hah—you're my type of girl." She knew he was blushing like mad and she wished she could turn the light on just to see it, to watch his face grow rosy and hot, his eyes darting from her to the floor to the ceiling and back again. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but something held her back, stayed her hands. "You're smart, and funny, and, God, you're so beautiful. You're _so_ beautiful, Nancy. And—I know you have Ned, and Ned's great, but I just—I would've kicked myself if we left this vacation without telling you how I feel. Don't—like, feel pressured to do anything for me, I just. I just wanted you to know." She could practically feel his embarrassment. He laughed at himself, softly. "I'm sorry, I'm just—I'm an idiot."

The finishing of his speech freed her suddenly, and she felt a pull to touch him, hold him; the little toy bear tumbled from her grasp as her fingers opened and she reached out to him, found his chest, traveled up his neck to his jaw, and held him there. She stepped closer and barely their bodies touched, brushed against each other as she held his face. She felt the muscles in his neck move as he leaned down cautiously, tenderly, and found her mouth.

It wasn't their first kiss but it should have been. The blood was hot in both of them as they kissed and pulled away and kissed again, panting for breath as their hands moved nearly beyond their control. He found her waist and clutched her to him, and where part of her shirt rode up and skin met skin they burned.

Pushed against his chest she could feel his heartbeat, every bit as frantic as her own.

He smelled like the ocean and she breathed him in, ran her hands through rough hair that still held salt from the sea.

With the soft lulling of the water playing just below the volume of their breath she found herself reminded of a song she'd heard on the radio, years ago. How strange, to think of a song at a time like this, as the man you loved encouraged your shirt from over your head.

_I hope all my days will be lit by your face_

He led her to the bed, to the mattress and sheets and pillows soft and ready and waiting. She reached around his own shirt and pulled the material over his head. He was so beautiful in his half-light as he leaned over her.

_I hope all the years will hold tight our promises_

He grinned at her wide open eyes, at her cool hands tracing up and down his forearms. She smiled softly back. Gently he swooped an arm under her knees and lifted them onto the bed so she could lie flat; lithely he climbed over her, his legs on either side of her, his elbows at her sides so that he just barely rested atop her.

_I don't wanna be old and sleep alone_

"What?" he whispered, tracing along her ribs where he could reach them.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." His lips were so, so soft, and his heartbeat echoed the pounding of the waves.

* * *

**Author's Note**: The song that gets stuck in Nancy's head is "Atlantic" by Keane. Thanks for reading!


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